


The New Recruit

by LyingCat3



Category: Bright (2017)
Genre: Angst, Childhood Trauma, Depression, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/M, Gun Violence, Other, Panic Attacks, Slow Burn, Supernatural Law Enforcement
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:26:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29706792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyingCat3/pseuds/LyingCat3
Summary: Special Agent Mira Iyer has just joined the FBI's Magic Task Force as a SWAT team sniper. The only thing the cocky sharpshooter hates more than authority is elven supremacy, and MTF Special Agent in Charge Kandomere has both. When they have to work together during a hostage situation, things don't go so well.
Relationships: Kandomere (Bright)/Original Female Character(s), Kandomere - Relationship
Comments: 8
Kudos: 4





	1. Crackshot

  
_Get out of my way or I might shove  
Get out of my way or I'm gonna shove_

— L7, "Shove"

#### Mira Iyer

It’s after 11 p.m. on a fucking Friday and I’m driving to a hostage situation in downtown L.A. Some elf holed up in a warehouse with a bunch of civilians, demanding a plane and ranting about the unfairness of the human law enforcement system. He’s also a suspect in a magical terrorism case.

I park my car on a side street a few blocks away from the warehouse, then heft the strap of my gear bag over my shoulder. It’s comforting to feel the weight of my sniper rifle. It always calms me as I head into unknown situations.

I flash my FBI badge and duck under the police line so I can check in with my boss, SWAT Special Agent Ilovayn. At six-foot-ten, he’s tall even for an elf, with long blue-black hair that he keeps tied back from his face. He’s reportedly also very old, with estimates ranging from 150 years to 600. Elves are rather vague about their life expectancies, so no one knows for sure.

Ilovayn strides over as soon as he sees me. “Agent Iyer.”

“Sir,” I greet him. “What’s the current situation?”

“No contact with the suspect for about fifteen minutes. We estimate about 15 civilians inside, physical condition is unclear. You’ll be setting up across the street,” Ilovayn says, pointing to a nondescript office building. “Agent Morales will brief you on the specific details.”

“Copy that, sir.” As I scan the crowd for Morales, I see a flash of blue in my peripheral vision. My eyes settle on Special Agent in Charge Kandomere, who’s standing with his back to me and talking to his partner, a huge ginger loudmouth whose name I can’t remember. I’ve only exchanged a handful of words with the Special Agent in my six months with the Magic Task Force, and was immediately turned off by his icy air of superiority and the shiny silver gorget he always wore. _Elves above all, my ass_.

I finally find Morales, who’s in the middle of strapping on a bulletproof vest.

“Iyer, good, you’re here.” He runs through the mission and hands me an earpiece so I can stay in contact with the team on the ground.

Twenty minutes later, I’m suited up and stretched out on my stomach on a ten-story rooftop, scanning the warehouse and surrounding area through my sniper rifle scope. The building has several front-facing windows but the suspect has been careful to stay clear of them. He’s has been calling the negotiator every half-hour to repeat his demands but refuses to release any hostages.

Two hours later, as my body is going numb from being in the same position for so long, the sound of a gunshot within the warehouse sends everyone into high alert. I train my rifle on the front windows and see that the suspect has moved partially into view of the window, while holding a woman against the front of his body like a shield, with a gun pointed at her temple.

I adjust my position and realize I have a tight but possible shot at a small patch of the elf’s forehead.

“Special Agent Ilovayn, I have the suspect in my sights. Request permission to shoot,” I say, unable to completely mask my excitement.

My earpiece crackles with static before Ilovayn replies, his voice urgent. “Permission denied, Iyer, risk of civilian death is too high.”

“Sir, I have a direct shot––” I thumb off the safety, knowing I could lose my chance at any second if the elf moves out of view.

“Iyer, I gave you a direct order,” Ilovayn snaps. “Stand down, I repeat, _stand down_.”

I bristle in annoyance. I’m probably the best sharpshooter they’ve got. There’s a reason the FBI recruited me after only two years as a beat cop in the LAPD. I know I can do this.

  


#### Kandomere

“Iyer! Do you copy?”

I hear the agitation in Illovayn’s voice as I walk through the crush of MTF agents at the scene. The elf, who has led MTF SWAT for nearly twenty years, radiates anger as he shouts into the radio.

“Agent Ilovayn, is there a problem?” I ask calmly.

Ilovayn whirls around, his eyes hard. “Sir, it’s the new human sniper, Iyer. She insists she has a shot at the suspect but the margin of error is simply too high.”

I search my memory and frown once I remember the new recruit, a small but muscular woman with a short mop of black hair and light brown skin. When we were first introduced, she stared at my gorget, then smiled insincerely up at me as she shook my hand, her grip firm. “I can’t wait to work with you, sir,” she’d cooed, rather insolently.

“You believe she’s overconfident?”

Ilovayn laughs derisively. “In the extreme, sir.”

“I will talk to her.” I take the radio from the elf and flick it on.

“Agent Iyer, this is Special Agent in Charge Kandomere.”

Silence.

“Iyer, do you copy?” I say, irritated.

“Copy that … _sir_.”

I ignore the implied taunt in her tone. “I hear you have defied Special Agent Ilovayn’s order to stand down. May I ask you to explain why?”

“I can get this asshole, sir, but we’re running out of time––”

“Agent! You are in serious danger of insubordination. You will cease and desist immediately––”

Iyer’s last words are “Fuck this,” before the warehouse window shatters and screams emanate from the warehouse.

I draw my Glock as agents around me crouch on the ground, weapons at the ready. But the screams peter out. There is no returning gunfire. Suddenly the doors burst open and people stream into the street, frantic. I home in on them, using both sight and scent for identification. I sense 16 humans, and zero elves. Which means Iyer …

“Hold your fire!” I shout. “Repeat, hold your fire!” Agents slowly lower their weapons, expressions wary.

I release a shuddering breath, my heart hammering, and signal three SWAT members to follow me. I make my way to the warehouse, my Glock trained on the front windows. I step inside and see a blond elf stretched out on the floor, a bullet wound in the right side of his forehead. By the smell, he is most definitely dead. His silver-blue eyes, so like my own, stare lifelessly at the ceiling.

"Clear the other rooms," I order the SWAT team.

The radio crackles to life. “Told you I could make the shot,” she drawls.

“Agent Iyer,” I growl. “You will return to headquarters immediately for debrief with Special Agent Ilovayn and myself. Do you hear me? Immediately!”

“Yes, sir,” she replies flatly.


	2. Conduct Unbecoming

  
_Your heart hits like a drum_  
_The chase has just begun_

— Ruelle, "Monsters"

#### Mira

I'm fuming as I speed toward headquarters, which is twenty minutes away and just outside the Elf District. I grimace as the district's glittering skyscrapers come into view, promising the kind of luxury that most humans will never know. The first time I went into the exclusive enclave a few years ago, the over-the-top display of wealth just pissed me off. And I'm about to get chewed out by someone from that world. I'm not sure if I want to punch something or throw up.

I brake abruptly in front of the FBI office. As I stomp inside the building, I wonder if I should stow my gear in my locker before the debrief. The choice is made for me when I hear Kandomere's flat voice.

"Agent Iyer, in my office, please."

I'm still at the reception area, more than fifty feet from his office. How did he know it was me? But then I realize he probably smelled me as soon as I arrived. Now I definitely want to throw up.

I take a deep breath before I walk toward the office. My earlier adrenaline-fueled bravado is wearing off, and anxiety begins to creep in. Am I about to be fired? I can practically feel Kandomere's glare scorching my skin as I hesitate in the doorway. He's leaning against the wall behind his large mahogany desk, jacket off and hands in his pockets. Illovayn, seated in one of the chairs in front of the desk, turns around to give me a brief nod, his face expressionless.

"Sir," I mutter, forcing myself to meet Kandomere's silvery blue eyes.

He straightens up and begins rolling his white shirtsleeves to his elbows. I watch as he reveals his well-defined forearms, lightly covered in dark hair.

"Iyer, take a seat," he commands.

I hastily avert my eyes and slide into the chair next to Illovayn, dropping my gear bag on the floor. I clench my fists in my lap and wait for the hammer to fall. So much for my glorious FBI career.

"I've been speaking with Illovayn about what happened tonight," Kandomere says, his tone deceptively casual. "Would you kindly fill me in on what the hell you were thinking when you defied a direct order?"

I focus on the crimson sleeve garter encircling his left arm as I answer. "I saw an opportunity to end the hostage situation and took it—"

"Were you aware of details that we were not privy to?" When I stare at him blankly, Kandomere continues. "Let’s say you had missed, or merely wounded the suspect. Had you confirmed that he wouldn’t open fire on the civilians, or that he didn’t have a contingency plan, such as an explosive device that likely would have killed everyone in the vicinity?"

"Well, no, but I had a clear shot—"

"As you’ve said before," Kandomere interrupts again, stoking my temper.

"I took a calculated risk, one that I believed had a decent chance of success," I explain heatedly.

" _Decent_? You were reckless!" Kandomere slams his hand down on the desk, making me jump. "We have a chain of command for a reason, Iyer. Without it, we would descend into chaos. You’re damn lucky things worked out the way they did."

Kandomere pauses and his stern voice softens. "Illovayn has told me you’re one of the best sharpshooters he’s seen in his time here.” When I perk up, he adds, "Illovayn also said you are impatient and regularly question and resist authority."

"I made the shot!" I cry out, frustrated. "Why the fuck aren’t we talking about that?"

"Iyer, that's enough," Illovayn snaps. "You’re out of line."

Kandomere holds up his hand. "Illovayn, may I ask you to leave us while I speak privately to Iyer?"

"Of course, sir." Illovayn stands gracefully. "Would you like me to wait?"

"Go home. It’s been a long night. You can finish your report in the morning."

Illovayn nods and steps out of the office, closing the door gently behind him.

I swallow hard. Illovayn can be aloof and pompous, but he's never mistreated any of his human supervisees, unlike some of the other elves in charge here. I generally feel safe around him. Kandomere, however, is an unknown quantity. I’m not sure I want to be alone with him.

Kandomere doesn't say anything right away. I clench my fists in my lap as the silence stretches. When I can't stand it anymore, I try to plead my case.

"With all due respect, sir," I force myself to say, "shouldn’t you be looking at the bigger picture here?"

“Oh, you want kudos, is that it? Congratulations for a job well done?” Kandomere speaks quietly, but his eyes narrow. “Do you think you’re better than your colleagues?”

I shrug. "I mean, I got the guy you’ve been chasing for _eight months_ , so, yeah, I guess I am—"

Kandomere moves so fast I don’t track what he’s doing until he hauls out of my chair by my bulletproof vest like I weigh nothing at all and pins my body against the wall behind me. I want to struggle or at the very least shout at him to let me go, but I’m too dazed to do much of anything.

Kandomere leans closer. “Not so tough now, agent,” he murmurs down at me. His silvery eyes darken, his expression hard. A lock of silky blue hair swings forward, brushing his elegant jaw. In a distant corner of my brain, I absently note how beautiful he is. To be fair, all elves are ridiculously hot, but I’d never thought of the special agent in charge as anything other than a huge pain in my ass. Until now.

Lust rips through me. What the fuck? I don’t even _like_ him! Also, I despise this kind of alpha male bullshit, but my body clearly doesn’t, because all I want to do is kiss him, for a very long time. I bite my lower lip at the thought. Kandomere blinks, then fixes his gaze on my mouth like it fascinates him. I flush as I grow wet between my thighs.

Kandomere’s nostrils flare slightly before his head snaps up. His eyes clear and he releases me abruptly, causing me to stumble. By the time I regain my footing, the elf is back behind his desk. Feeling slightly disoriented, I question whether the frisson of desire between us had even existed.

"Agent Iyer, I apologize for my physically aggressive conduct," he says stiffly. "That was completely unacceptable and I hope I didn’t injure you. You have the right to file a complaint with human resources, of course."

I gape at him, then clear my throat. "I … maybe I will," I rasp, hoping I sound threatening. He merely nods.

"As to the earlier matter we discussed, you are on probation, effective immediately, for six months,” Kandomere continues. “I requested, and Illovayn agreed, that you be assigned to a new department."

"I'm being _transferred_? Where?” I demand.

"As far away from MTF as possible, if I have anything to say about it.” Kandomere looks straight at me, dispassionate as ever. “Illovayn will contact you on Monday morning to apprise you of your new assignment. Dismissed, Agent Iyer.”

I glare at him before I grab my gear bag and stalk out of the building. That motherfucker! But once I’m in my car, my outrage drains away, leaving me exhausted, defeated, and full of restless desire.

  


#### Kandomere

I wait until I hear Iyer’s car leave the parking lot before I sit down with my head in my hands. I rub at my eyes, appalled at my inappropriate conduct with the new agent. I prize myself on my ability to keep a tight leash on my emotions, under even the most trying situations, and I certainly do not physically accost the employees I supervise. In fact, I had disciplined other agents for such behavior in the past.

I’ve seen my share of prima donnas in my many years with the FBI, but Iyer’s recalcitrance had been on a whole other level. When she had refused to follow orders, her obvious contempt had goaded me into the fury that precedes fight mode. Humans generally picture elves as elegant, well-mannered creatures; most of them are unaware of our potential for aggression and violence, inherited from our feral ancestors for the sake of survival. These traits have been tempered over centuries, as we learned to coexist with the other races. But the instinct for ruthlessness still exists deep within our genetic memories.

I don’t even remember making a conscious decision to touch the agent; I had simply exploded into action. I wince as I recall the look on Iyer’s face, a mixture of surprise and dread. Like a cornered animal. She seemed unable to move, her heart beating rapidly and pupils so dilated that her brown eyes looked black. She was shorter than I remembered -- five-feet, three-inches at most – with black curls and delicate brown skin. I was startled to discover that I found her pretty. I’ve never been with a human woman and don’t seek them out as a rule. But to be fair, I’ve been so single-minded about MTF lately that I haven’t been interested in any women, elf or not.

I know the effect I have on people of all races and genders, how their eyes follow me no matter where I am. More than a few colleagues have tested the waters with flirtatious glances and banter, but I have a strict policy regarding workplace relationships -- I don’t engage in them, period. I’m fairly selective with my platonic friendships as well. My rapport with Montehugh took over a year to develop, and I think our connection surprised him as much as it did me. He tends to be blunt and unsophisticated, but I trust him in a way I haven’t been able to with anyone else.

As I continued to study Iyer, I felt a subtle shift, the air becoming charged with something other than anger and fear. When her teeth nervously pressed into her bottom lip, it awakened something dark and primal that I’d suppressed for far too long. I became mesmerized with her plush mouth, and, I’m embarrassed to admit, the wicked things I wanted to do with it.

Then her scent flooded me, a sweet and heady combination of sweat and arousal, and my brain finally caught up to what was transpiring between us. I forced myself to release her, even as my body yearned to draw closer, to inhale her intoxicating scent, to taste her lips, her skin, all of her …

I shudder in response to the memory and take deep, cleansing breaths until my desire fades and I can think again. But I can’t will away the guilt and shame. I deserve whatever consequences result from this gross error in judgment.

With a sigh, I slip into my jacket and pocket my phone before leaving the office.

It’s going to be a long night.


	3. The Fall

  
_Flew too high and burnt the wing  
Lost my faith in everything_

— Nine Inch Nails, “Somewhat Damaged”

#### Mira

Late Saturday morning, I wake up on the couch with a splitting headache. As I roll to a sitting position, I see the bottle of bourbon on the coffee table and groan. I had been unable to relax once I got home, my mind going in circles as I replayed the night’s events. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I tossed back a double bourbon, then poured another with the aim of blotting out thoughts of a certain elf. 

I also have a sour stomach that can only be cured with a greasy breakfast, so I text my friend Tina Chu.

_Morning, Tina! Wanna get food?_

_OMG, yes. The diner okay?_

_Yep, I can be there in 30-40 minutes._

Tina replies with a thumbs-up emoji and _See ya soon!_

After a quick shower, a glass of water, and a couple of ibuprofen, I decide to go to the diner on foot. It’s sunny and warm and the smog isn’t as bad as usual, which lifts my spirits a bit. 

Tina is already at an outdoor table, looking casual but cute in a flowy lavender tank top and denim capris. She’s tapping on her phone when she notices me and gives me a big wave.

“Mira, it’s so good to see you!” She gives me a hug before I sit down. “I’ve already ordered us some coffees.”

“You’re the best.” 

“I just heard about that hostage situation last night. Were you there?”

I sigh. “Yeah.” I toy with my silverware.

“Are you okay?” 

I look up, to see Tina studying me with concern. We’ve been friends since we roomed together as freshmen at UCLA. In addition to being one of the kindest people I’ve ever met, she knows all my sordid secrets and has stuck around regardless. 

“It was … just a weird night. I’m going to be moved out of MTF.” I can’t hide my bitterness.

“I’m so sorry! I know how excited you were about being able to get a job there. What happened?”

“I went against my boss, then mouthed off to his boss.”

“So, the usual?” Tina’s voice is light and I snort. She’s well aware this isn’t the first time I’ve butted heads with someone at work.

“At least I’m consistent?” I smirk.

Tina starts laughing and I can’t help chuckling. The server arrives with our coffees, and we quiet down as he takes our orders.

I’m stirring sugar and cream into my coffee when Tina speaks again.

“It must have been stressful.” Tina’s hands are cupped around her mug. “I saw an agent giving a statement about it on the news… the blue-haired elf. I forget his name.”

My shoulders tense. Exactly who I don’t want to talk about. 

“Kandomere,” I mumble.

“One of the bosses, I take it?”

I scowl and take a slug of coffee so I don’t have to answer.

“He was on some list online … the ten hottest law enforcement officers in Southern California, or something.”

“Of course he is.” I roll my eyes. There are countless videos of him online, not to mention social media accounts devoted to all things Kandomere. I hear coworkers whispering about him all the time, wanting to know if he’s single, giggling over how sexy and mysterious he is. 

“Oh, come on, you don’t think he’s even a little bit cute?” Tina asks playfully.

“You know how I feel about elves,” I mutter, irritated that I still feel so raw about the past.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Mira.” She leans over to squeeze my arm. “I’m an idiot.”

“It’s okay.” I’m not mad at Tina. My own mother barely remembers what happened, and she suffered the most. Tina’s one of the few people in my life who has met my mom and knows her story.

“Did you see your mom last week?” 

“We had lunch and then went for a walk in the neighborhood.” I smile at the memory. “She finally made a couple of friends. She seems … happy.” 

“Yay! Your mom is so sweet. I’m glad other people are seeing that.” 

“Me too. I always worry about her being alone in that place.” I feel the old guilt rearing up. I hate that she’s in an assisted-living facility but there’s no way I can care for her with the crazy hours I keep. I also can’t afford to hire a full-time home health aide, and there are no other family members to help. “She wanted to know when you’re going to visit.”

“I’d love to join you when you go to see her next.” My mother warmed up to Tina within minutes of meeting her. It didn’t surprise me. Tina is naturally empathetic, so it made sense that she would gravitate toward a career as a psychotherapist. When my anxiety became unbearable last year, she referred me to the therapist I’m seeing now.   
  
The server reappears with plates piled high with pancakes, eggs, and bacon and we dig in enthusiastically. After eating, and getting caught up with Tina, I feel almost human again. My headache has mostly retreated by the time I get home. 

I spend the next few hours doing laundry and tidying up my apartment. Though I try to stay busy with chores, my thoughts keep wandering to Kandomere. I had deflected Tina’s earlier question, but who was I kidding? He’s gorgeous, no doubt about it. Until what happened to my mom, I was no different from other teens who mooned over elven celebrities and hung posters of them in their bedrooms. 

As an adult, crushing on an elf is a little more complicated.

After my last load of laundry, I decide hit the gym. I might as well work off my agitation and shut my mind off in the process. 

*** * ***

My legs are still sore from a hard run on the treadmill the night before when Illovayn calls me at 8 on Monday morning. I’ve been up for an hour and I’m jittery from drinking three cups of coffee. He informs me that I’m moving to counterintelligence to work as an analyst. I manage to hide my disappointment at being demoted to a desk job. 

“Is it okay if I drop by MTF to get some things from my desk?” 

“Of course.” Illovayn pauses. “Iyer, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry to lose you from MTF, even temporarily. 

I’m stunned by this unexpected admission. “Thank you, sir.”

“Good luck in your new post.” 

Well, at least Illovayn isn’t my enemy. However, I’m absolutely dreading seeing Kandomere, particularly because feelings of resentment and attraction are warring within me and I’m not sure how to resolve them. I comfort myself with the thought that counterintelligence is on another floor, thus minimizing the risk of running into him constantly. 

When I walk into the MTF office about forty minutes later, what I’m fearing doesn’t come to pass. Kandomere’s office is dark, the door closed. His partner doesn’t appear to be around either, so they’re probably in the field. Illovayn is in his office, talking on the phone, but he gives me a small wave. I wave back, relieved, and rifle through my desk to get a few personal items, including an old photo of my mom and me that I keep in one of the drawers.

“Iyer!” I look over, to see Morales and a few other agents peering at me. “You okay? What’s going on? I heard you’re going to counterintel.”

“Just for six months. I’m on probation,” I say, making a face.

“Damn, I’m sorry. You were pretty badass on Friday, though.”

“Thanks. Glad someone appreciates it.”

“You know how it is with elves. They can’t stand it when humans stand up to them.”

“Don’t I know it.” I roll my eyes, then drop the picture and other items into my bag. “I need to get going.”

“I’ll walk you to the elevator,” Morales offers, falling into step beside me. 

“Okay.” I smile at him. His first name is Leo, but no one ever calls him that. I don’t know him that well, but he’s always seemed to look out for me. He encouraged me through some tough periods when I first joined MTF and despaired of being able to graduate from the rigorous training program. 

For the first time, I really look at Morales. He’s tall and lean, with closely cropped black hair and warm hazel eyes. He laughs easily and has a gift for fitting comfortably into any situation.

He’s also pretty cute.

I push the thought away. I don’t do office flings anymore. I allowed it once when I was in the LAPD and it only led to extreme awkwardness and hurt feelings when I broke it off with the other cop. 

I stop in front of the elevator and hit the down button. “It was good to see you, Morales.”

“Good luck with the new gig. We should get lunch soon. I’ll text you?”

“Sure, I’d like that.” The elevator doors open and I step inside. Morales watches me with a smile until the doors slide shut. 

____________________

#### Kandomere

The raid didn’t go as planned.

MTF had gotten a tip that a dark magic terror cell was operating out of this abandoned office building near Skid Row. We suspect Yaiseth, the elf in the hostage situation, was involved, but Agent Iyer’s itchy trigger finger torpedoed the chance to confirm it. Whoever was here had cleared out in a hurry. The Crime Scene Unit is scouring the premises for evidence but I have a feeling they won’t find much. I kick a battered file cabinet in frustration.

“Careful, boss. That could be evidence,” Montehugh quips. 

“I’ll be sure to alert CSU,” I say dryly. 

“Those bastards knew we were coming.”

I nod in assent. Not for the first time, I wonder if there is a mole at MTF. It has to be why it took eight months, as Iyer so kindly put it, to close in on Yaiseth. He had panicked enough to take hostages rather than keep running. Was the terror cell connected to a larger criminal enterprise, one that he couldn’t risk revealing? And if so, had the hostages been a distraction from the true threat? 

“Keep an eye on the agents who knew about this operation,” I tell Montehugh. “I also want to know Yaiseth’s personal and professional connections, no matter how little they seem to be related to magical crime.”

“You got it, boss.”

Montehugh and I are on our way back to the office when he asks about Iyer, just when I’d managed to put her out of my mind.

“So what’d you decide about that agent, the sniper?”

“Probation for six months and reassignment as an analyst in counterintelligence,” I reply evenly.

“Desk job?” Montehugh muses. “She isn’t going to like that.”

“Agent Iyer’s being disciplined, that's the point,” I retort.

“It seems a little harsh though. I mean, Iyer did shoot the guy—” 

“She’s a loose cannon.”

“Maybe. But man, can she shoot.” 

“Montehugh, is there something you want to say to me?” I ask impatiently.

“Shit, you’re testy today,” he huffs.

I frown and focus on the road. The truth is that I’m exhausted after spending most of the weekend thinking about how I treated Iyer on Friday night. Now, Montehugh is making me question the consequences I imposed for her insubordination. 

I need to get my mind back on the job, and that means eliminating any distractions. Kicking Iyer out of MTF was the right thing to do. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfic I've posted ever! I've written it in first-person with alternating points of view (Mira and Kandomere). All feedback welcome and appreciated. :)


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